Chapter Seven: The Worst

The air in the Granger kitchen was very tense, as Hermione reluctantly began to make a pot of raspberry tea for her mother and Lupin. Lupin stood uncomfortably in the corner, watching the frustrated twitching of Hermione's fingers, and the stoic, unconcerned expression on Mrs. Granger's face. Every time a leaf rustled outside the open window, or someone passed by on the pavement, Hermione's head shot up, and she gazed for a long time at the window as if expecting all hell to break loose upon her any moment. When nothing happened, she looked like she couldn't decide whether to be relieved or annoyed.

"I see you didn't bring back any of the things you went out for in the first place," Mrs. Granger was saying conversationally, crossing to the window, and shutting it pointedly. "I suppose that means that you'll have to go back again before school starts in the fall. I won't remember, so don't forget to take care of it yourself."

"Yeah," murmured Hermione, "actually, mum, I've been meaning to talk to you about that."

"Oh?" Mrs. Granger looked at her daughter. "Sounds like you've been meaning to talk to me about a lot of things."

Hermione frowned balefully down at the teapot. Lupin cleared his throat. "Where is your husband, Mrs. Granger, if you don't mind my asking?"

"He's at the office," Mrs. Granger told him. "Life's been going on here, even if everything's going up in smoke amongst the wizards. My husband's a very busy man, these days. He's thinking of selling his practice one of these days, so that we can retire together, but you know how it is. Children aren't cheap." She smiled to take the sting out of her words, but Hermione still looked unhappy. "I understand," said Lupin quietly, "but I think it would be advisable for Mr. Granger to take a couple of sick days, and stay at home with you for a bit. We can protect you when you're in the house, but we can't follow you to work and back every day. There just aren't enough hands."

"I wouldn't expect you to," insisted Mrs. Granger. "I told you, life goes on."

"Mum-!" started Hermione, putting the teapot down on the table with an exasperated thud. Mrs. Granger put up a hand to forestall any protests. Still smiling, she walked over and took the teapot from Hermione, and carefully poured a cup of tea for each of them, while Hermione shot Lupin a helpless, exasperated look from over her mother's shoulder. She moved her lips soundlessly, mouthing "do something, won't you," and widening her eyes expressively at him. Lupin shook his head. He had no more power to make Mrs. Granger do anything than Hermione did, and Hermione knew it.

"You'll stay the night with us, I daresay," Mrs. Granger was saying, as she laid one cup out on the kitchen table each for herself, Lupin, and Hermione. "I feel like we never even get to see Hermione lately, and it's always nice when she comes home, even if just for a little while."

"Thank you," began Lupin, "but we really shouldn't-!"

"Thanks," interrupted Hermione, "that sounds wonderful."

Mrs. Granger beamed at them. "I hoped you'd say that," she said. "Do me a favor, Hermione, and go and check if there are fresh sheets in the second bedroom. We can put Professor Lupin there for the night, assuming it's clean enough to be used."

Hermione nodded obligingly, and left the room. Mrs. Granger watched her go, and waited until the two of them heard Hermione's footsteps on the stairs before she turned to Lupin. She was no longer smiling, and there was a deeper sort of dark emotion in her eyes that Lupin hadn't seen there during all of her conversation with Hermione.

"Professor," she asked, very calmly, "is it really that bad?"

Lupin took a moment trying to decide how to answer that question. He couldn't help having a deal of respect for Mrs. Granger, as he'd just seen her accept that she, her husband, and her only daughter were in grave danger of being murdered, and had taken it with marvelous poise. The woman gave off the impression of being a bit of a scatterbrain when one first met her, he thought, but he could now see where Hermione got some of those qualities that made her unmistakably a proper Gryffindor. Mrs. Granger would be an ally in his desire to protect Hermione, and he could tell her the truth.

"Yes," he said. "I'm afraid so."

Mrs. Granger sighed. "Yes," she echoed, nodding. "I guess I didn't really doubt that."

"We're going to look after her," Lupin told her, wishing that he was as sure about Hermione's safety was he was trying to sound. "We're not going to let anything happen to her."

"You're not going to let anything happen to her," murmured Mrs. Granger, giving Lupin the same keen, piercing look that Hermione often did when s he thought he was being deceptive. There was a light emphasis on the word "you" that alarmed Lupin, and he glanced up at Mrs. Granger's thoughtful face, but her expression didn't seem to have changed. "And what about her friends? Ron, and that Harry Potter? Are all of you going to protect them, too?"

There was definitely a difference between the way she said "you," and the way she said "all of you," Lupin decided. "We're doing the best we can to make sure that they're all safe," he assured her, around his thoughts.

"I bet you are." Mrs. Granger took one of the cups of tea, and sipped at it, letting a significant silence fill the kitchen. Lupin couldn't help feeling strangely comfortable with this woman, who seemed to understand so much without having to be told. He found himself wanting very much to tell her that she didn't have to worry, because he, Remus Lupin, would rather die than let anything or anyone lay a hand on her daughter, and that he intended to do just that if the need arose. That thought alone was staggering, and he had to spend a few moments wrapping his mind around the idea before he was able to voice it. He really was willing to die for the girl, he realized, and the realization didn't scare him as much as he knew it probably should have.

Before he had a chance to put any of these revelations into words, however, there was a pounding at the door, and Mrs. Granger looked up from her tea. She started towards the door, but Lupin rushed forward and intercepted her, shaking his head. "Let me get it," he said. "You go back into the kitchen and stay out of sight."

The woman didn't put up a fight, but gave him a long look, and said, "Don't you dare get yourself hurt, Professor," before retreating around the corner. When she was gone, Lupin turned a wary eye on the door, from which furious knocking was still coming. He craned his neck, trying to see underneath the shade of the nearby window without actually lifting it and letting anyone know that he was there. A shout from outside stopped him dead.

"Mrs. Granger," a familiar voice was yelling, still hammering at the door. "Mrs. Granger, open the door, this is an emergency."

Lupin threw the door open, to reveal a breathless, sweating Kingsley Shacklebolt. Kingsley briefly registered some surprise at seeing Lupin, but apparently didn't have time to berate the older man.

"Remus," he said, "look, you have to get the Grangers somewhere out of the way. There's someone out her shooting off Confundus charms, ad we think they're trying to create a distraction so that we get out of the way of the door."

Lupin didn't stay to chat. He rushed back into the kitchen, and grabbed Mrs. Granger forcibly by the arm. "We've got to go," he said. "Get upstairs to the bedroom. I'm going to lock you in."

"What?" Mrs. Granger stammered, looking past him to the open door. "What's going on? What do you mean, lock me in? Where's Hermione?"

Lupin pulled the still protesting woman up the stairs, and pushed her into the bedroom that Hermione was just coming out of. Alarmed, Hermione shot a look at his face, and then at her mother's. "What's happening?" she asked. Lupin shook his head, and, not allowing himself a moment to consider the consequences to Hermione's opinion of him, threw her backwards into the room, and closed the door.

He could hear Hermione's shout of protest, even as he raised his wand, and muttered, "Claudo." He heard the lock on the door click, and then a thud, as if a person had thrown their full weight against it. Wincing, he continued. "Abeus," he said, and the lock on the door vanished, so that it was now impossible to unlock it. Finally, he added "Abdos," and the door disappeared under a sheet of illusion, so that it looked like a seamless part of the wall.

"Remus," shouted Kingsley, sticking his head back into the doorway. Lupin rushed down the stairs again, and out into the yard, slamming the door behind him as he went.

The sight that met his eyes on the Grangers' lawn was a really alarming one. Kingsley Shacklebolt, Nymphadora Tonks, Mad Eye Moody, and Charlie Weasley were all ranged around the well-pruned bushes and flowering plants of Mrs. Granger's garden, ducking and weaving around spurts of green magical fire that seemed to be coming from nowhere at all. Lupin rushed into the fray, his wand raised, trying to see where the spells were shooting off from.

"Remus!" Tonks breathed a sign of relief as he approached. "Just in the nick of time, too. Where've you been the past week or so? We've all been taking turns outside the Grangers, but everyone says that you were too busy."

Lupin blinked at her. Had no one told her that he'd been at home with Hermione? No, he decided, no one had, because if she'd known, she'd hardly be smiling at him in that same welcoming, hopeful way that she usually did.

"I'll explain later," he told her, pointing towards the direction from which the hexes were coming. "Now isn't a good time."

"Yeah," chuckled Tonks, dropping to her knees on the grass as a spell whizzed over her head. "That's for sure. Stupefy!" She fired off a spell in the direction of the attack, squinting in her attempt to see clearly through the magical haze. "Oh!" Her hand shot out and she pointed furiously into the distance.

Lupin followed her gaze, and saw a form coming through the cross-cross of spells and hexes. After a moment, another person appeared, and then a third. He shot a glance at Tonks, who was looking very apprehensive.

"Death Eaters?" she asked Lupin, tensely.

Lupin shrugged. "Who else?"

The figures were coming clearer now, and Lupin could see that they were swathed completely in black cloaks, their faces only partially hidden by the hoods. He didn't recognize the first man, but the second was very clearly Walden McNair, and the third-!

"Get down, you idiots," bellowed Mad Eye Moody, dashing past them and firing off a series of rapid jinxes at the oncoming Death Eaters. "Or are you just going to stand there and let them pick you off one by one while you gawp at them, eh?" Lupin and Tonks dropped on to their stomachs, lowering their faces to the ground. Lupin could hear the sounds of spells being shot from behind them, over his and Tonks' heads. Charlie Weasley roared as he charged the cloaked figures, closely followed by a stony-faced Kingsley.

As Lupin struggled to his feet, he saw the first Death Eater make a slashing motion in the air with his wand. Moody went crashing to the ground a few feet away from Lupin, and Lupin rushed over, lending the man an arm to get him to his feet. "Expelliarmus!" shouted Lupin, pointing his wand at the man who had attacked Moody. "Stupefy! Petrificus Totalus!"

The Death Eater dropped, although Lupin couldn't be sure if he'd hit him, or if one of the others had. "Aim," muttered Moody darkly, scrambling to his feet again, and cursing colorfully under his breath. "And what the hell are you doing here? Shouldn't you be with the Granger girl?"

"Remus!" screamed Tonks. Lupin spun around to see that a fourth Death Eater was pointing his wand directly at Lupin's head. Lupin ducked, but not quite fast enough. A bolt of yellow fire came hurtling towards him from the Death Eater's wand, and Moody fell over again in the grass, trying to avoid it.

Then, suddenly, Lupin found himself being thrown bodily to the ground, so that the spell careened over his head and scoured a nearby rosebush. He looked up to see Hermione, her wand raised, sprawled next to him on the ground.

"What," stammered Lupin, staring at her, "are you doing here? You should be inside wit your mother. How did you get out?"

"Don't be ridiculous, Professor," Hermione hissed. "Stupefy!" she dropped the fourth Death Eater with an expertly aimed stupefication charm. "I thought you of all people would have had enough sense not to lock away an able-bodied wizard at a time like this!"

"She's right, Remus," muttered Moody, getting up for the second time. "Now shut up and do something useful, would you?"

Lupin looked around. Charlie was in the process of exchanging hexes with McNair, only a few feet away from them. Another Death Eater was closing in behind him, preparing to strike. Struggling to his feet again, Lupin rushed at Charlie and his attackers, roaring, "Petrificus totalus!" as he went. The Death Eater behind Charlie went rigid, and hit the ground like a man-shaped stone. Charlie must have finished off McNair, Lupin thought, as McNair, too, was lying winded on the grass.

"Stupefy," shouted Hermione, as one of the vanquished Death Eaters attempted to get to his feet. He dropped again, and Hermione picked his wand out of his limp hand, pocketing it.

"That's all of them," muttered Moody, who had somehow come to stand unnoticed at Lupin's shoulder. "We're going to have to clean this place up, quick…and work on them." Moody pointed, and Lupin became aware for the first time that a throng of frightened neighbors was standing, gaping and muttering, clustered together on the edge of the pavement in front of the Granger residence.

Kingsley joined them, panting slightly. "Obliviate," he said, waving his wand in an exhausted arc over the heads of the staring Muggles. Some of them opened their mouths to shriek in protest, but the sounds were cut off as they all blinked, and stared at each other, apparently very confused as to what they were all doing there.

"It's all right," Tonks was saying, "it's okay. There was a bit of an accident, car overturned, but nobody's mortally injured. We'll get everybody inside and they'll be okay. Move along now, go on. Doesn't help to stand and gape at people. Shoo!"

Absently, Lupin wondered how the muggles were going to rationalize or explain away the fact that most of the victims of the "car accident" were holding wands and sporting odd-looking magical burn marks. He briefly considered removing all of the offending wands from the ground, and then re-doing the Obliviation spell so that no trace of magical doings remained.

That thought went completely out of his mind when he heard, from a few feet behind him, a low, snarling voice say, "Crucio." He spun around, and saw that McNair seemed to have recovered from Charlie's hex, and was advancing on the place where Hermione was sitting, balled up and panting on the grass.

Everything felt like it was going in twisted slow motion. Lupin started to run, but his legs weren't carrying him fast enough. He felt as though he was crawling along as he tried to reach Hermione before the jet of fire from McNair's wand did. She looked up, and Lupin had one glimpse of the horrified look on her face before the Cruciatus curse hit her full on the chest, and she let out a blood-curdling scream that sounded as though it had been ripped from her lungs by force. She writhed on the ground, clutching at her head, at her arms, at her chest, and tearing at her hair as she tried to ease the searing, blinding pain.

"No!" Lupin wasn't aware of what he was doing, couldn't think properly, could barely see McNair standing in front of him. He threw himself on McNair, forcing him to the ground, his hands grasping at McNair's wand as he fought to wrench it out of the larger man's hands. McNair was stronger, more hardened, but Lupin had the force of desperation behind him, and he slammed McNair's head into the ground, stunning the man with the force of the blow. Hurling McNair's wand from him, Lupin raised his own, and said, "Petrificus Totalus." McNair didn't move.

Hermione's limbs stopped twisting, and her face relaxed as she struggled to pull breath into her lungs. Lupin reached out and put his arms around her, drawing her to him, desperately relieved that she was managing to breathe. Hermione dropped her head against his chest, and went limp and silent.

"Hermione," whispered Lupin, shaking her in his urgency. "Hermione. Listen to me. It's all right, it's over. Hermione, it's going to be all right. We finished them. It's done."

She didn't open her eyes, or give any sign that she had heard him. Lupin's heart went icy cold, and he stared numbly down at her pale, expressionless face. It was over, he kept telling himself. She was going to be all right.